


His Whole World

by dontlietomehoney



Series: His Whole World [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Comforts Stiles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Friendship, Hugs, Other, Platonic Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontlietomehoney/pseuds/dontlietomehoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claudia Stilinski has just passed away, and though Derek has never met Stiles, he feels the urge to comfort the sobbing boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Whole World

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally in several different parts, but I have just deleted the other parts and re-added them as a whole into the original post so there are not so many pages to go through. I plan to add more eventually, and this will be added as chapters rather than additional parts so it is easier to bookmark if anyone wants to do so.

Derek heard the sobs, gut wrenching sobs before he saw the boy. He slouched a little more in his chair and watched as a nurse lead the boy into the waiting room and knelt down in front of him.

“Stiles,” she whispered with a weak voice, “Stiles… I’m so sorry.”

The boy just sobbed harder. Derek supposed he wasn’t much older than nine, ten years old, and wondered what could have possibly caused the boy to cry like that. Like his whole world had fallen apart.

Derek felt the urge to go to him, to comfort him. But his legs stayed firmly in place as the nurse pulled the boy into a tight hug. Stiles clung to her, tiny fists grabbing at her scrubs. His sobs quieted but Derek felt his chest tighten as a wave of misery rolled off of the pair and filled the room completely. They held each other so tightly.

The gesture wasn’t long lived, though it was obvious both would have preferred to never let go, and the nurse pulled back. She wiped carefully at the boy’s tears and smiled regretfully.

“I have to go back, sweetie,” she sniffled. “But I’ll call your dad, okay?.”

Stiles froze at the nurse’s words, and looked at his feet as new tears stained his cheeks, his hands shaking before he wrapped them around his waist and he nodded.

The nurse let out a soft, distressed moan. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you-”

Derek was out of his chair in an instant. “I’ll watch him!”

Both the nurse and the boy jumped in surprise, but Derek moved closer.

“My mom made me wait here,” he explained. “So I can watch him. My name’s Derek Hale.”

The nurse eyed him carefully for a long moment, but nodded when the PA system called out for assistance on the next floor up. She looked back at Stiles, eyes full of pain, and pulled him into another quick hug before she pushed him towards Derek.

“Stay with him,” she instructed, “and your dad will be here soon. I promise.”

Stiles whimpered, the sound almost inaudible, and stumbled into Derek’s side, and the older boy caught him easily.

“I’ll take care of him,” he swore.

The nurse nodded and left quickly.

Derek turned to the boy, relieved to finally have the chance to comfort him, and lifted him easily into his arms.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. “Whatever happened, it’ll be okay.”

“Wh-who are you?” the boy asked, his voice pinched by oncoming sobs once again.

“Just a friend, okay?”

Stiles just nodded, easily accepting, and wrapped his arms around the older boy, finally letting go and sobbing against his shoulder. “My mom-” he hiccupped. “She’s-”

Understanding washed over him, and Derek bit his lip. His chest was tighter than before as he sat down with Stiles held close, and shushed the boy softly. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed and laid a soft kiss to the boy’s cheek. He cried with him.

Derek held the boy as he continued to cry, his shirt growing wet with tears and snot and _grief_ , and he held Stiles as tightly as he could without hurting him.

Stiles was curled up in his lap, the rubber of his shoes digging into Derek’s thigh, and he showed no sign of letting go anytime soon. The older boy had no problem with that, though he knew his mother would return at some point, and he hoped Stiles’ father would come for him too. The boy needed family, he needed pack after having lost someone so close.

“Your dad will be here soon,” Derek tried after the thought crossed his mind.

His offered words of comfort didn’t seem to help, though. Instead, they made things worse.

Stiles clutched at Derek’s neck even tighter and shook his head back and forth. “No, no, no, no,” he pleaded. “M-mommy… I want mommy back!”

Derek’s eyes widened with worry, the anxiety rolling off the boy growing and shoving its way down Derek’s throat.

“Stiles…” he breathed.

The boy began to struggle, though, panic flaring up alongside the sorrow and… fear. Derek was puzzled by the last scent he picked up, but couldn’t focus on it when Stiles tried to pull away and began beating his tiny fists against the older boy’s chest.

Derek didn’t stop him, just took the hits which had very little impact anyways, and rubbed his hands up and down the boy’s back.

Tears continued to streak down Stiles’ cheeks, little whimpers and grunts falling from his lips the harder he hit at Derek, but he never really hurt the older boy. Derek hoped he could be an anchor for the boy.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’ll… I’ll be okay. Hit me all you want, okay? It’s okay.”

Stiles sucked in a breath, the sound of it tight and wheezing, and wailed out his agony as he gripped at Derek’s shirt. He had seemed shocked for a moment, but rather than hit Derek again, Stiles leaned into the older boy’s chest once again and held on.

Derek rocked him back and forth, cooing softly even as he heard the rush of footsteps coming towards them and watched the doorway. His mother appeared in a matter of seconds, her eyes wide with confusion and worry, and took in the sight before her.

Stiles had fallen quiet, though his breathing was still heavy and rapid, but Derek wasn’t prepared to let him go. He shook his head at his mother, trying desperately to tell her with his eyes that he had to stay with this boy, had to take care of him.

Derek didn’t know why, but Stiles felt like pack, and it felt so right to comfort him when he was so upset. Talia Hale moved slowly into the room, her eyes filling with understanding as well as she got closer to the two boys.

“Derek?” She murmured.

The word was spoken too low for any human to register, but Derek tilted his head towards his mother.

“He needs me,” he told her. “He- his mother, she…”

Talia’s eyes widened even further. “Does he belong to Stilinski?”

Derek shrugged, wrapping his arms more tightly around the boy when he whimpered at the movement, and looked back to his mother. “His name is Stiles.”

His mother’s face fell when she heard the boy’s name, and Derek nearly shuddered at the sight. As his alpha, Talia had always exuded power and confidence, but in that moment sadness overwhelmed her.

“Claudia,” she whispered a moment before they both heard a man shouting from the hallway.

“Where’s my son?! Where’s Stiles?!”

The boy in question gasped at the sound of the man’s voice and pulled back from Derek’s chest. Tears still trickled down his red cheeks, but his brown eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty.

“Where is he?!” the voice grew louder, more frantic.

“Dad,” Stiles whimpered. “Daddy!”

Derek rose to his feet with Stiles still held securely in his arms, and looked to his mother. She simply nodded, her lips a tight line and her features showing both hurt and understanding.

“Stiles?” The man’ voice was right outside the door then.

“Daddy,” Stiles hiccupped. His face was tight, his eyes scrunching together and his lips wobbling as he looked at his father.

Derek moved them both closer to the man standing in the doorway to the waiting room. He seemed to be in shock, whether from his wife’s death or the fact that his son was in the arms of a stranger.

Derek was simply shocked to find that the man was dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. He knew his mother had often worked with the local police, but she had never allowed Derek to meet any of them.

“Daddy!” Stiles wailed, leaning out of Derek’s arms and reaching for his father, and then the man was stumbling into the room to catch the boy against his own chest.

“Stiles,” the man breathed. “Stiles I-”

“’M sorry daddy,” Stiles sobbed into his father’s shirt. “I di’n mean to!”

“Mean to what kiddo?” the man asked, rubbing a hand up and down the boy’s back much like Derek had done.

Stiles trembled. “M-Mommy… She’s… I- Daddy I didn’t mean to let her go. Promise! I h-held on so t-tight! B-But she’s gone!”

“Oh Stiles,” the man murmured, a stricken look crossing his face as he held the boy closer. “Baby, that’s not… you didn’t let her go.”

Stiles simply shook his head against his father’s chest and held on to the man as tightly as he could, loud, gut wrenching sobs shaking out of him.

“John,” Talia offered softly, “I’m so sorry.”

The man, John, looked to her and shook his own head. “No… I… thank you for watching him until I got here.”

Talia waved her arm in Derek’s direction. “I only found him when I came back to pick up my son.”

John looked to Derek then, and a look of gratitude mixed with the grief and fear in his eyes. “Thank you. I think I better get him home now.”

And then the man and Stiles were walking away. Stiles briefly looked over his father’s shoulder but he didn’t wave back when Derek lifted his hand in a good bye.

Derek watched them through the glass as John carried the sobbing boy away, and hoped that he would have another chance to comfort him again. That he would have a chance to comfort him properly, like packs do, and take away the sadness he still smelled in every inch of the room.

Talia’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“We had better go too,” she murmured.

“Did-” Derek cleared his throat when he felt a thickness there that he knew was tears. “Did you get the information we needed?”

“Yes,” Talia answered simply.

Derek simply nodded and allowed her to lead him away.

“Are you alright?” Talia asked after a long time of silence. They were nearly back to their house in the preserve and her son hadn’t spoken a word to her since the hospital.

Derek sucked in a breath though, his attention focusing again at his mother’s voice, and hummed.

“Worried,” he murmured finally.

“About that boy?” Talia asked.

Derek turned his gaze away from the window and looked to his mother. “He smelled so hurt, mom. So sad. He needs a pack and he just…”

Talia’s eyes flickered to Derek’s, understanding shining through. “And he just lost it.”

Derek swallowed thickly and nodded. “I can’t… I can’t even imagine what that would be like, but I- -” The boy’s words trailed off as he looked out the window yet again, and bit his lip.

“What do you want to do, Derek?”

“What do you mean?”

Talia smiled, though the gesture was sad at best, and reached out to grip her son’s hand in her own. Derek didn’t fight her like he usually would have. Didn’t pull away and joke about not needing to hold his mother’s hand anymore, about being too old for it. No. He held on tight and looked down at where their fingers slowly interlocked, and didn’t look away.

Talia could smell salt in the air of the car and rubbed her thumb back and forth across her son’s knuckles.

“Do you,” Talia started cautiously. She had to be careful. “Do you want to give it back to him?”

Derek’s fingers clenched around hers even tighter. “Mom?”

“I saw the way you held him, honey. You didn’t want to let him go even when his father came for him.”

“I… what do you mean?”

“We could make him pack,” she whispered.

Derek’s chest tightened in both fear and excitement. He sat up straighter in his seat and swallowed thickly. “Make him wolf?”

Talia shook her head. “Not all pack must be wolf. Perhaps… later. If he chooses to join us that way, I would consider it.”

“So,” Derek murmured questioningly. “So I could see him again? I could… comfort him? Like pack?”

“If that is what you want,” Talia told him. And instantly the heavy smell of despair in the car lifted. Replaced by hope and excitement.

“I do,” Derek told her. “I- - mom, I need to.”

“Then that is what you will do,” Talia told him as they turned off the road towards their home. She looked to her son, though, and kept his gaze for longer than before. “But you will have to be careful. Ease him into our pack. And be ready for the possibility that he may not want to be with us. But…”

“But?” Derek asked, eyes worried though his heart still raced with anticipation of seeing the boy again and helping him.

“But I will speak with the Sheriff,” Talia answered.

“Thank you alpha,” Derek said, his voice a rush of breath, and the cab of the car filled with the scent of gratitude and love and happiness once again.

Talia turned to her son when after she pulled the car fully into the driveway and put it in park, and smiled yet again. “You’re welcome, baby.”

And Derek lurched across the middle console to wrap his arms around his mother in a fierce hug.

He would get to see Stiles again, he would get to scent him and cover the scent of depression and fear. Derek would get to simply hold the boy in his arms again. And that was all he really needed.

Later that night Derek’s stomach flipped with anticipation as his mother dialed the number for the Stilinski house and waited.

John nearly didn’t answer the phone when it rang. It had rung again and again since the moment he had gotten the call about his wife. His wife…

John squeezed his eyes tightly closed and for the first time let the tears there slide down his cheeks. He had needed to be strong for Stiles, for his son who had watched his mother die while he was right there and his father… John had been out on a call.

Stiles murmured fretfully in John’s arms as if he could hear his father’s thoughts, and the sheriff tightened his hold on the boy. It had taken hours for him to get Stiles to sleep, and yet even after he had succeeded simply because Stiles had been too exhausted to keep his eyes open, John hadn’t yet taken the boy up to his room. No, he didn’t want to let go just yet, John wanted to keep Stiles close like he should have done for his wife. For Claudia.

He couldn’t let Stiles go like that.

John didn’t know if he would ever be able to again.

But his son was stirring in his arms, small whines and whimpers sounding from his throat at each ring of the phone, and John finally got up the nerve to answer it.

The first call had been one he had made to the precinct, a request for leave, and since then he had been getting calls from Melissa, the hospital, and friends from the station. And John felt the incredible urge to simply rip the cord out of the wall and just take his son to bed where they could both burrow under the covers for the next decade or so until their chests stopped hurting with the loss of the woman who had been both of their worlds.

John sniffled to clear his nose a bit, shuffled Stiles in his arms to free one hand, and reached for the phone.

“H-hello,” he muttered softly.

 _Sheriff,_ the voice on the other end responded. _This is Talia Hale._

John cleared his throat at that, having not receive a call from the Hale family in quite some time, and certainly never at home. But of course she had been there, with his son and her own, when John had arrived. And he wasn’t sure if he could take hearing another ‘I’m sorry’.

“What- uh, what can I do for you?”

 _My son,_ she started, and John sat up a little straighter. _He was worried about Stiles._

The sheriff frowned, but nodded. The boy had been holding Stiles when John arrived after all, and Talia had said she hadn’t watched after Stiles at all. Her son had. John glanced down at his own boy, his heart breaking a little more at the sight of Stiles’ tear stained cheeks, and had to clear his throat again.

“He’s sleeping,” John whispered.

 _I know, sheriff,_ Talia whispered back, and John wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He let it go, though, when Stiles murmured unhappily in his sleep and burrowed further into his father’s chest. John took a steadying breath, held the phone between his ear and shoulder, and softly carded his fingers through Stiles’ hair. The boy settled, but his hands were still clenched in tiny fists against John’s uniform.

“What, uh, what is this about then?”

Talia took a moment to reply, but when she did her voice was serious. _Derek was hoping to see him again,_ she said. _And I was hoping I could offer you… a pack._

John frowned. “A pack? Talia that- - No one has joined the Hale pack in years.”

_True, sheriff, but the offer is open to you and your son._

“Because of…”

Talia made a soft sound on the other end of the phone, nearly a cooing, soothing sound, and John clenched his jaw. Talia went on, though, before he could snap.

_Because I have known you for a very long time, John. You would be a valued addition to this pack, and… Both you and your son have suffered greatly tonight._

“I don’t need your pity, Talia,” John huffed, a sudden flash of anger overtaking him.

Stiles whimpered, and Talia let out a slow breath.

John took a breath of his own, his eyes stinging yet again, and murmured softly to his son. The boy settled after a moment, and John focused once again on the phone. “I don’t need your pity.”

 _I have lost many members of my pack over very many years, John,_ Talia explained carefully. _I am not giving you pity, I am offering understanding. Loss, especially so close, will always be present in your mind and in your heart. I simply wish to offer you and your son the support and comfort you need from a pack willing to give it._

John was silent for a long moment, his gaze focused solely on his son, and he shook his head. Stiles had been there, he had held on to his mother for as long as he could, and John hadn’t even been there to say good bye. He hadn’t been there when Stiles fell apart, he hadn’t been there when his own son needed him the most.

But the Hales had.

“Okay,” he breathed.

 _John?_ Talia asked.

And the man nodded. “I… I’m not… sure about this entirely. But I know… I know I won’t be able to do this on my own. And Stiles deserves better than that. God, he deserved so much better.”

John’s voice cracked at that and he knew he would have to end the conversation soon or the alpha of Beacon Hills would hear him crying not unlike his own son had been for so long. Talia spoke up, though, and ended the conversation for him.

_We will stop by tomorrow morning then. Get some rest if you can, John. And we will take care of the both of you._

The line went dead after a long minute of silence from the sheriff, and John set the phone back in its cradle without another word.

Slowly, as to not wake his son, John shifted sideways on the couch until he was on his side and Stiles was still held close to his chest. Usually if Stiles fell asleep on him, John would carry him up to his room or even take him to his own bed just for the night. But John couldn’t help but remember all the nights he had done that and Claudia had turned over, woken by the bed shifting, and smiled sleepily at him before opening her arms to accept their sleeping boy. She had always smiled so sweetly at John when he set Stiles in those waiting arms, nuzzled against Stiles lovingly and then John in turn when he settled beside them as well.

John would never have those moments again. He would never have his wife beside him, and Stiles would never have his mother.

“Claudia,” John murmured softly.

And the quiet sound of it, the simple mention of her name from even his own lips had tears forming in John’s eyes again. He let them fall, dripping onto the couch, and held Stiles closer still.

“M... mommy,” Stiles whined in his sleep.

John let out a hard burst of air at the broken sound of his son’s voice, his chest feeling like it had been caved in, and finally let go. The shaking of his shoulders woke Stiles, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were crying together and clutching at one another as if they would be ripped apart if they didn’t. They stayed that way through the night and into the morning.

When John heard a knock on the door a few short hours later, he couldn’t help but sigh. He had left Stiles on the couch to sleep a bit longer after they had been able to stop their crying, Stiles’ stopping only after he had exhausted himself again. John had simply held him, unable to sleep, and couldn’t help but replay every moment of the day before. He had been on duty, on the scene of a car crash and holding the hand of a girl that had told him to go, told him to leave and see his wife. But he had refused. And he had left his son and wife alone when he had most needed to be beside them.

He sucked in a heavy breath and fought back the sting beneath his eyelids yet again. The knocking at the front door came again before he got up the motivation to answer it.

“Talia,” he greeted as he opened the door, and nodded. “Come in, please.”

Talia smiled softly, nodded as well, and stepped forward. “Thank you for having us, John.”

“Yeah, uh,” John sighed and stepped aside to fully let the alpha into his home, “thank you too, I suppose.”

Talia’s gaze softened even more before it flickered behind her, and John turned to find the boy who had been watching over Stiles the night before. John stuck his hand out immediately and greeted the boy.

“Derek,” he stated firmly.

The boy seemed surprised but quickly stepped into the house and took John’s hand. “Sheriff.”

“Just John, kid,” he smiled wearily. “If your mother was serious about accepting us into the pack, you can just call me John.”

Derek nodded slowly, his eyebrows rising in something like surprise, but didn’t say anything else.

Talia wrapped her arm around Derek’s shoulders as John released the boy’s hand and tilted her head towards the kitchen. “Should we talk then?”

“Yeah,” John agreed. “Sure. Right this way.”

“Thank you,” Talia hummed before following the sheriff into the kitchen and taking a seat at the table there.

“So,” John started.

“How’s Stiles?” Derek asked immediately.

John’s eyebrows shot up at that, but he waved a hand in the direction they had just come from. “He was sleeping on the couch just now, couldn’t you hear him?”

Derek nodded. “Yes. But how is he _doing?_ ”

“Derek,” Talia murmured tightly, but a glance from John had her calming.

“He, uh- - both of us are taking it about as well as you could expect.”

Derek’s eyes lowered to the floor and he leaned against the countertop behind him. “Yeah, I uh- - I remember what it was like when dad… It took a long time before I felt somewhat normal again.”

Talia seemed shocked by the information Derek shared, but John felt some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“You can go sit with him if you want,” John offered quietly. “He didn’t get much sleep last night, neither of us did, but if he wakes up I would appreciate if he wasn’t alone.”

Derek’s head jerked up, his eyes wide, but he nodded quickly and was out of the kitchen and headed towards the living room in a flash.

John’s lips curled into a small smile, but Talia shook her head in disbelief.

“He hasn’t spoken about his father in years.”

John turned his gaze downward at that, looked at the glint of gold on his left hand and sighed tiredly. “I guess it’s like you said last night, huh? Loss is always pretty present for us. Maybe seeing Stiles and I last night reminded him.”

“Yes, perhaps.”

“So,” John stated, looking up at the alpha once again. “You want to invite my son and I into your pack?”

Derek tuned out the conversation in the kitchen in favor of focusing solely on Stiles. The boy was sleeping on the couch like the Sheriff had unnecessarily pointed out, and Derek tried his best to be quiet as he knelt down on the floor in front of him. After a moment of debate, Derek reached out and took one of the boy’s hands in his own.

Stiles murmured softly, his brows turning down slightly and showing just how drawn the boy’s face was. Derek could smell the salt of tears and bitter grief in every corner of the room, and they didn’t just belong to Stiles this time.

It was a familiar thing, grief, but Derek had never smelled it as strongly as he did when it came from Stiles. Even when Derek’s father had passed, the sadness of the pack didn’t compare to what Derek could sense from Stiles.

He could almost feel it permeating his skin, sinking in and drawing him down. The fact that his mother would make Stiles pack only made the feeling worse too, stronger because he shared it with the boy rather than just smelled it.  

Derek whined and leaned forward to rest his forehead on his and Stiles’ joined hands.

“You’re drowning,” he muttered. “Even in your sleep, you’re drowning.”

Stiles’ grip tightened around Derek’s fingers and the boy twisted on the couch.

Derek just moved closer, held on tighter, and reached up with his free hand to sweep the unruly waves of hair off of the boy’s forehead.

“The pack will help you,” Derek promised him then. “I will help you in any way I can.”

The younger boy’s heart beat faster and his eyelashes fluttered across his cheeks. Derek would have shuffled even closer, but he realized his chest was already pressed flush against the edge of the couch. Instead, he just leaned his head down on their hands again and waited.

The Sheriff had asked him to be there for Stiles if he woke up, and Derek knew that if he were given the chance he would never leave this pup’s side. He would always be there for Stiles because he had felt like pack the moment Derek had laid eyes on him. Nothing would change that.

Stiles whimpered again, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and Derek debated waking him up himself. The boy’s eyes flashed open a moment later though, and Derek nearly whimpered too. He could see the emotions cross the boy’s face, confusion and sadness the strongest among many. But he was surprised to find recognition and a spark of gratitude in Stiles’ face when he looked at Derek.

“Hi,” Stiles squeaked.

“Morning, pup,” the older boy offered weakly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Where’s my daddy?” Stiles ignored the question.

Derek bit his lip and tried to smile. “He’s in the kitchen, right now. Wanna go see him?”

Stiles’ bottom lip wobbled, but he nodded silently and Derek nodded too.

“Come on then,” he hummed, and helped Stiles sit up before they made their way to the kitchen together.

Stiles never dropped his hold on Derek’s hand, and the older boy was silently grateful for the opportunity to continue offering comfort. They made the short distance to the kitchen with Stiles rubbing his eyes the whole way as if they still stung from the wash of tears he had shed. Derek frowned, wishing that wasn’t the case but knowing it to be true.

Stiles even sniffled, though the sound was quiet, embarrassed, and he tried to hide his face in his little red hoodie.

Derek just tugged the boy closer to his side and held onto Stiles’ hand even tighter.

“John,” Derek heard his mother say just as they rounded the corner of the kitchen.

The Sheriff stopped speaking midsentence and turned to where the alpha was looking as well. His eyes softened around the edges, sadness and grief and _love_ rolled off him in waves, and neither Stiles or John spoke as they gravitated towards each other and the older man scooped his son up into a hug.

Stiles wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and buried his face against John’s shoulder, sniffling once again though there was no new smell of tears. The Sheriff held him firmly, almost as if he was afraid to let him go, and Derek went to stand beside where his mother was. He didn’t protest when his mother took his hand again like she had the day before.

“Did you sleep okay kiddo?” John finally asked after a long few minutes of simply holding his son.

Stiles didn’t move from where he had hidden against his father’s chest, but he shrugged. John squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and tucked down to lay a kiss on Stiles’ cheek.

“Do you want some cereal?” John asked next. “I don’t think either of us had any dinner. I could make you something.”

Derek held back a growl when Stile shook his head and mumbled out a “no”. John handled the response quickly though.

“I’ll just get you some juice first then, okay honey? Then maybe some toast. You have to eat something.”

Stiles whined softly, the sound muffled by John’s shirt, but nodded and finally pulled away from his father.

John smiled weakly. “You wanna sit with Miss Talia while I get it for you? She’s a really nice lady I hear.”

Stiles glanced over at the alpha quickly before dropping his gaze and leaning against his father’s chest again. “Hi,” he murmured much like he had to Derek.

Talia smiled. “Hello, little one.”

John whispered against Stiles cheek and slowly made his way over to the dinner table where he set Stiles down on his feet and leaned down to lay another soft kiss to the boy’s cheek. Stiles’ pushed into the contact and watched almost forlornly after his father as John walked back towards the refrigerator.

Derek stepped forward. “You wanna sit with me?”

Stiles glanced up at him, his neck craning before he nodded, and for the first time Derek realized how small the boy was for his age. His mother had said Stiles was eight, but he was small enough to look at least two years younger than that. Derek felt an overwhelming need to protect this boy.

He offered his hand and Stiles took it easily, allowed himself to be led to a seat, and Derek lifted him to sit sideways on his lap. Talia watched them silently, but leaned forward when they were settled. Stiles leaned back against Derek’s chest.

“What do you know about the Hale family, Stiles?” Talia asked.

Derek nearly rolled his eyes because _everyone_ knew about the Hale family in Beacon Hills. Everyone knew what they were and what they did to protect the land they called their territory. But he stayed quiet and waited for Stiles to answer.

The boy’s brow was scrunched down, his eyes almost guarded, and he shrugged like he had before.

Talia hummed. “Okay. How about I tell you a little about my family, would that be okay?”

Stiles looked back at Derek then, briefly, and then nodded.

“Well,” the alpha started, “one of the most well-known things about us Hales is that we protect this town. Did you know that?”

Stiles nodded just once and Talia smiled encouragingly.

“Do you know how we protect Beacon Hills, little one?”

Stiles looked to his father then, the tense set to his shoulders easing slightly. “You chase the bad guys,” he stated. “Like my dad.”

John turned away from his task of putting bread in the toaster and smiled at his son. “Not quite, kiddo.”

Stiles huffed slightly, but brightened a fraction almost immediately when John brought him his juice while the toast heated up. John ran his palm over Stiles’ hair, “You remember how I said the Hales were a little different than most people?”

Stiles held the cup of juice to his lips for a moment, eyes wide, and nodded. “They’ve got super powers,” he stated with a lick of his lips.

Derek looked around for a possible napkin or towel to wipe the remaining juice from the boy’s face, but Stiles simply went back to drinking from his glass anyways so he figured he might as well wait.

“Super powers are pretty close,” Talia chuckled. “But we just call ourselves werewolves.”

Stiles stared at the alpha as she went on to explain what Derek felt like was their entire family history. Talia told him about born wolves and packs, alphas, betas, omegas, and bitten wolves. And then she told him about humans in a pack. How valued they were, how precious and cared for human pack members could be if they agreed to join a pack that offered them a place.

Stiles finished his juice and absently picked at the toast his father brought him until Derek reached forward and started breaking off small pieces for him to eat one at a time. By the time Talia had finished her telling of who and what the Hales were, the toast was gone and the Sheriff was giving Derek a grateful look.

“So,” Talia leaned forward. “Would you want to be a part of a wolf pack Stiles?”

The younger boy seemed shocked, his eyes wide, but his features quickly dissolved into distress. He looked to his father and then back at Talia, back and forth, back and forth, for a long moment. And then he burst into tears.

He wiggled off of Derek’s lap and scrambled into his father’s, pulling and tugging at him desperately even after John lifted him fully into his lap. The older man looked just as shocked as Stiles had a moment before, and Derek and Talia felt much the same.

Stiles sobbed against his father’s chest, his breaths tearing out of him at a faster and faster rate. It worried Derek.

“Stiles,” John started worriedly, “Stiles what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry!” Stiles wailed. “Please don’t send me away, daddy! I’m sorry I killed mommy, I didn’t mean to! Please, I don’t want to live with the Hales, I want to live with you. I’ll- I’ll be go-ood. Daddy, I’ll be good, pr-promise! I-I won’t- - I won’t kill anyone else!”

The boy reeked of panic.

John looked stricken, his own heart rate rising rapidly as he held onto his son. Stiles shook in his arms, tried to apologize over and over, but his breaths came shorter and shorter. Derek reached forward without thinking and laid a hand on the first available stretch of skin he could find, Stiles’ ankle, and his veins ran black.

The boy calmed slightly, his chest expanding further than it had, but he didn’t pull away from his father at all. If anything he held on tighter, leaned more heavily against him, and apologized again with a whimper.

John shushed Stiles softly, ran his hands up and down the boy’s back, and by the smell of it, fought back tears of his own. Derek had to fight back the urge to cough as he felt choked by the massive waves of guilt pouring off of both of the Stilinski’s.

John looked to Talia for a moment and shook his head. “Can we get back to you? I need- I…”

Talia nodded. “Of course, John, take your time. You have my number.”

“Thank you,” John murmured before simply rising from the chair and carrying Stiles up the stairs.

Derek had felt relief when his fingers lost contact with Stiles’ skin, but he felt worry and fear that was all his own as well. He looked to his mother and raised his eyebrows in question.

Talia shook her head. “We should go. Let them have their privacy.”

“But-”

“Come, Derek,” Talia said firmly. She rose from her seat just as the Sheriff had, and walked out of the kitchen.

Derek followed shortly after, but his shoulders were slumped and his jaw tight.

When he got into the car, his mother set her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll hear from them soon, Derek. Don’t worry.”

“How can you be sure?”

Talia’s eyes flashed red and Derek tilted his head for her, exposed his neck. The alpha simply brushed the backs of her fingers gently against his throat.

“They need a pack, Derek, and now John knows we are truly willing to accept him and Stiles into ours. They are both hurting right now, but they will come around. I know they will.”

Derek leaned into his mother’s touch, but didn’t speak. He simply nodded and then looked out the window to stare up at the Stilinski house. If he listened closely enough he could still hear Stiles crying.

He truly hoped that Stiles would accept the pack. He wanted nothing more than to bury Stiles in a pack cuddle and comfort him and take away his pain as best he could. But he couldn’t if Stiles refused to be part of the pack.

If Stiles refused… Derek would have to find another way.

John held Stiles close to his chest, the boy having calmed down when John had finally been able to explain that he wasn’t in fact sending Stiles away, that he wasn’t angry at Stiles for- -

John had let his own tears slide down his cheeks as he choked on those words, when he explained that no one could have saved Claudia and that it wasn’t Stiles’ fault at all. But Stiles still mumbled apology after apology, refusing to let go of his father even after he had nodded his understanding that wherever Stiles went John would follow.

“Do you not want to be a part of their pack?” John asked softly a while later.

His fingers carded through Stiles’ hair, his son breathing a little deeper with each pass of John’s hand, and the boy shrugged.

“You could spend more time with Derek,” John offered next.

Stiles’ hands clenched and unclenched against John’s shirt as he sniffled and looked up at his father uncertainly. “You promise you’ll be there too?”

John smiled weakly, nodding, and leaned forward to lay a soft kiss to his son’s forehead. Stiles leaned into him, eagerly seeking the affection. “I’ll have to go back to work sometime, and if you ever want to go see them by yourself I can take you, but I’ll always be there too if I can. I wouldn’t give you up for the world, kiddo. I love you too damn much, okay?”

Stiles pressed his face against his father’s shoulder for a moment, just breathing softly, and then nodded. “O-okay.”

John hugged his son closer, and if he didn’t let him go for the rest of the morning, no one could really blame him. And it wasn’t as if Stiles tried to pull away from him either. No, John’s little boy moved with him when he shifted to lie back against the pillows on his bed, held on tighter, and fell asleep in his father’s arms yet again when he tired himself out with enough tears and softly spoken apologies.

John wasn’t sure what he could possibly do to dispel his son’s belief that he had somehow had a hand in killing his mother, especially after the episode Claudia had had on the rooftop of the hospital, but John wasn’t ever going to let Stiles believe that he no longer loved him. He fell asleep too, with his son’s head tucked under his chin, and his own arms wrapped protectively around Stiles’ back.

Stiles stayed silent the next day when John led him up towards the Hale’s front door. The estate was huge, at least four times as big as the Stilinski house, and John had a spark of hope that one day Stiles would enjoy running through the halls of this house, expending all of his excess energy from his ADHD as well as just being a child. The sheriff looked to his son as they stopped before the door, the little boy holding tight to his father’s hand with one of his own as well as clinging to John’s pant leg with the other, and felt a swell of love for him.

“You ready kiddo?”

A moment passed before Stiles nodded jerkily and somehow pressed himself even closer to his father’s side.

“Remember,” John murmured softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“O-okay,” Stiles whispered, looking up at his father with wide, doe eyes.

“Alright,” John sighed and reached up to knock on the door, “let’s get this over with.”

Before the sheriff could actually knock, though, the door swung open wide to reveal Talia.

Stiles’ eyes snapped towards the alpha with something like fear, but the woman simply smiled down at him. “I’m glad you could make it,” she hummed and then looked to John, “both of you. Would you like to come in?”

“Please,” John nodded.

The alpha stepped aside with a sweeping arm motion, and John led Stiles into the estate. Talia was right behind them, closing the door, and walked them through the house. They passed a staircase, the entryway to the kitchen, a set of closed, glass doors, before Talia brought them to what seemed to be an office.

“Have a seat,” she offered with a wave of her hand.

John looked to the side and found a massive fireplace with love seats and couches surrounding it. He moved closer and could see pictures of the Hale pack set carefully along the mantle as well. He wondered if he and Stiles would have to provide pictures of themselves or maybe have them taken later when they were actually part of the pack. But, then again, perhaps the pack wouldn’t even want pictures of them at all. John looked down at his son, the boy still holding on tight, and hoped that the pack would at least welcome Stiles that way.

“Thank you for having us,” John stated when he finally took a seat and allowed Stiles to climb into his lap.

Talia smiled. “You are always welcome, Sheriff, and that offer, I assume, is why you are here. Do you have your answer?”

“I do,” he conceded. “Stiles and I would like to be a part of your pack.”

Stiles jumped slightly when a loud thump sounded from above them. John looked to the ceiling of the room but Talia simply arched an eyebrow. “ _We_ are pleased to hear that.”

John narrowed his eyes at her, the loud thump from above coming again before what sounded like a heard of animals tumbled down the stairs they had passed earlier. The sheriff relaxed when he saw Derek sliding into view, the young man’s socked feet skidding across the hardwood floor before he crashed into the doorjamb.

“Mom?” the young wolf asked hopefully.

Talia waved her son in, a look on her face telling John that the alpha wished to roll her eyes at her son’s antics but held back, and let Derek sit beside her.

“Yes, dear, you heard correctly. The Stilinski’s will be joining our pack,” she told him.

“Awesome,” Derek breathed excitedly.

Talia did roll her eyes then, but Derek just smiled widely.

“Is, uh-” John cleared his throat. “Is there something we have to do for this to be… official?”

“There is a ritual,” Talia said.

“A ritual.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “It is very simple, really, but it must be done in order for the bonds to properly take.”

“So what is it then?” John asked.

“It happens on the full moon,” Derek supplied helpfully.

Talia ran her fingers through her son’s hair, and smiled. “Yes, on the next full moon we will invite you back again, and perform the ritual.”

“Won’t you be, uh… distracted?” John asked carefully. Stiles seemed to take note of his nervousness and turned his face to press it against his father’s collar. John held his son closer.

“My brother, Peter, watches over the little ones on the full moon, but if you are worried about them losing control, I will still be present to stop them. Many of them are very young, cubs really, but the older ones such as Derek here, they have exceptional control. And with an alpha present there will be no problems,” Talia explained easily.

John’s head dipped up and down slowly. “Alright. So, what about the rest of the ritual? I imagine there is more to it than my son and me just being present on the full moon.”

“There is. Most of the ritual is formality, such as you bringing a gift to me, which I will accept, and I will give a gift to you as well, but then I must mark you and Stiles as part of the pack.”

“Mark us? How?”

“One way is with scent,” Talia hedged. “The whole pack will be involved with that.”

“And the other?”

“The other is a bite.”

“What?! You said Stiles could stay human, you said-”

“I know what I said, John,” Talia stopped him. “The bite is not for changing, but it must be done to show other wolves that you are part of a pack.”

“But a bite-”

“Is only a mark if I do not give it the power to be anything else,” Talia stated firmly.

John stayed silent for a long moment until he felt Stiles squirm in his lap. He looked down to find that he had a too tight hold on his little boy, and eased up, took a deep breath. “Just a mark?” he asked softly.

Talia and Derek both seemed to relax as well, the tension in their shoulders noticeable for the first time simply because it had finally gone out of them. The alpha nodded. “Yes, John. You and Stiles can even choose where you wish to be bitten if you would prefer to keep the mark private or more obvious.”

“Kind of like a tattoo,” Derek offered helpfully.

“Daddy,” Stiles murmured, finally speaking up, and all attention zeroed in on the little boy. Stiles curled in on himself in a show of shyness, but licked his lips and kept his own eyes on his father. “I- I don’t like needles, Dad, I don’t wanna tattoo.”

Talia chuckled lightly and leaned forward to address Stiles directly. “Don’t worry sweetie, there are no needles involved at all. The bite will hurt, yes, but only for a moment.” Her eyes snapped back up to John’s to confirm the statement. “Because the bite will not be meant to harm, it will not do so, and it will heal faster than any human injury, little one, I promise.”

John took a deep breath and nodded. “So… when is the next full moon then?”

Derek and Talia both smiled wide.

“In a little under three weeks,” Talia answered. “We can make arrangements immediately and then you and Stiles will be welcome in our home, in our pack, for as long as you still wish to be part of our pack.”

The Sheriff perked up at that. “So if we ever change our minds, if- if Stiles changes his mind, you won’t make us stay?”

“No, John, there is always a choice and the pack will always respect it no matter what you or your son desires.”

John pulled Stiles closer to his chest again, and the boy went easily, curling against his father and sighing softly as he took in the offered comfort. “Thank you,” John finally said when he finally pulled back.

Stiles blinked up at his father for a moment before saying thank you as well, and the alpha nodded her approval.

“So now we just wait until the full moon, but in the meantime would you and Stiles like to meet the rest of the pack, Sheriff?”

Derek’s eyes lit up at that offer and looked to the Stilinski’s huddled together on the opposite side of the room. He wanted so badly to integrate them into the pack as soon as possible and begin to offer comfort to Stiles. The smell of grief hadn’t left the two, and Derek knew logically that it wouldn’t leave them for a long time, but he could make an effort to lessen that sadness and having a pack to help would make it even easier.

For the first time since holding Stiles while he cried in the hospital, Derek felt a sense of hope.

“Okay,” John acquiesced. “Let’s meet them.”

Derek was on his feet immediately, slipping off towards the stairs again. “I’ll wake the girls!”

Stiles still didn’t let go of his father even as he heard more footsteps thundering down the stairs a few minutes later.

Derek smiled as his mother introduced everyone. He knew the Sheriff already knew the whole family, but Stiles had yet to meet the entire pack. They all milled about, forming somewhat of a line as Talia went from one to the next, but Derek was pleased to see that they all seemed interested in meeting John and Stiles.

Stiles, unfortunately, hid behind his father’s legs, his amber eyes only peeking out beyond the seam of John’s pant leg.

“You already know Derek,” the alpha stated, “but you might not know Cora, Laura, or my other two boys Conner and Caleb. Peter, my- - interesting brother here, and his wife Sarah have two boys, Max and Ryan. And then finally,” Talia chuckled when the final family member cooed from Sarah’s arms. “The youngest member of our pack was just born a few days ago… actually she was born the same day that we met you, Stiles.”

Stiles let out a small sound of surprise at being addressed, but otherwise didn’t move away from his father. Derek was simply relieved that the younger boy hadn’t put together the fact that the same day another member of their pack had been born one of Stiles’ own had died.

“Wh-what’s her name?” Stiles finally spoke up though.

Sarah and Peter beamed at the interest Stiles showed, and Derek’s uncle urged his wife to step forward and show the younger boy just what she had in her arms.

“Her name is Clara,” the woman explained softly. “Do you want to see her?”

Stiles held on to his father’s pant leg a little tighter, his nervousness obvious, but after a moment of hesitation he nodded.

Sarah smiled yet again and slowly knelt, Peter fretting slightly when his wife winced, but she soon smiled and urged Stiles to move closer.

Stiles inched forward just enough to peek at the bundle held in Sarah’s arms. The baby blinked owlishly up at him, her eyes unfocused but interested nonetheless. When Clara’s eyes suddenly flashed gold, Stiles gasped.

“She’s like you!” he stated directly at Derek.

The older boy’s eyebrows rose, as did the sides of his lips into a small smile. “Like most of us actually.”

And suddenly Stiles was surrounded by the glowing of eyes. Only a few of the children remained with normal coloured eyes, but so did Sarah who was still knelt in front of the younger boy. Stiles looked around at each and every member of the pack for a long moment before he brought his focus back to Clara.

“She’ll be strong like you?” he asked.

Talia looked to her son, and Derek happily answered. “Yes, in time she could very well be stronger than me.”

Stiles nodded seriously. “Okay.”

The room stayed silent for a time as Stiles studied the child held in Sarah's arms. After a long minute the woman looked to her husband and Peter stepped towards her to help her to her feet.

“Alright,” Talia spoke up again, “who wants to start breakfast?”

The volume in the room instantly soared as several of the young children darted for the door, while most of the adults milled about more slowly, chatting about what foods they would make. Talia, John, Stiles, and Derek were all that remained in the room afterwards.

“Wow,” John breathed almost tiredly.

Talia smiled with understanding. “The pack can be a bit much to take in, but I assure you, John, that we are more than happy to have you and Stiles be a part of our family.”

John didn’t respond, simply tugging Stiles a little closer, and holding on to the last vestige of that family he had had before. Stiles would always be his _family,_ no matter what the Hale pack considered them.

Talia’s head tilted to the side in curiosity for a moment before she waved her arm towards the couches again.

“Should we get to planning for the full moon then?”

John nodded. “I suppose so, yes. I have some other… planning that I need to do.”

Talia didn’t miss the shaking of John’s voice. “I understand,” she murmured. “I’ll contact you soon John, and if you are ever in need of help…”

“I’ll call,” he agreed.


End file.
